Survivor Game
by Sociially-Diisoriiented
Summary: A fanfiction take on the popular TV show series "Survivors." All entries are one-shots based on the Round's prompts written by the various writers of Team Gryffinclaw.
1. Introduction

All stories in this collection were written for the Survivor Game in the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum.  
>I am the captain of the team Gryffinclaw and the members of the team are the following:<p>

- Sociially-Diisoriiented (myself)  
>- butterflygirly99<br>- NeonDomino  
>- Screaming Faeries<br>- coltishfraxinella  
>- Jaideum<br>- Ophelia Joane  
>- Avespa Strife<p>

**Disclaimer: I did not write all of the stories in this collection. As captain of the team I was required to upload the stories to my account to submit them. Due credit to the writers will be posted, along with a fic summary & prompts for the round, at the beginning of each chapter! **


	2. Reward Round 1

**a/n: This story was written by butterflygirly99 for Round 1 of the Challenge.  
><strong>**Prompt: "write about Dramione after the Second Wizarding War"  
>Summary: The war is over. The Malfoys have been pardoned for their crimes, but their name no longer carries the weight it used to. Draco Malfoy must find a place for himself in a society that resents his namesake. Advice comes unexpectedly from a former rival. <strong>

* * *

><p>A soft bell rung as the door opened, causing Hermione to look up from her seat. She barely gave the blonde figure a glance before going back to her work which lay sprawled all over the table in front of her. Work had been rough lately and she was working to figure out the legality of a new House Elf Bill she was attempting to pass.<p>

Although not purposefully eavesdropping, Hermione couldn't help but overhear the conversation between the waitress and the man who had just entered the cafe.

"So, what can I get you?" the young waitress asked as she charmed a sponge to clean some dirty coffee cups.

"A new name…" the man replied jokingly, however the cynical tone that laced his words made it clear he wasn't exactly joking.

The waitress let out a soft laugh, "Well I'm no lawyer, but I can get you a cappuccino if you want."

Without looking up from her work, Hermione continued to listen to the conversation as the two went back and forth; the man had yet to mention his name, however, his voice did sound vaguely familiar. But luckily, Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop was known for its drinks and Hermione sincerely hoped that a little coffee would cheer the poor stranger up. The conversation reminded Hermione of a lot of the post-war folk who had been trying to pick up the pieces of the remainder of their lives.

Many people had been depressed after the war. Loved ones and friends had been lost, families had been torn apart. Even a few years after the war, the Wizarding World had remained in a rather chaotic state.

Just a few weeks ago, she had been at Malfoy Manor helping Ron and Harry dispose of any remaining Dark Objects. She was typically opposed to helping Ron and Harry with "clean up duty", however she had missed both her friends quite a bit and was almost 100% sure they wouldn't be able to complete the job without causing some kind of trouble if they were left to themselves.

The job itself hadn't been too tricky, however watching the faces of Malfoy's fall as they removed everything from old family heirlooms to fancy portraits was rather difficult. Hermione never had a particular liking for the family but their post-war lives had been awful. It had simply been trial after trial, controversy after controversy for the Malfoys. It was no way to live and it seemed even the Malfoys wanted a fresh start.

Ron had "found" a half written letter Draco was writing and to be honest, she felt bad for the family after reading it. Draco had been writing to a distant cousin, telling him of how he wanted to do something good with his life and escape his horrible reputation he had earned. Ron had assured that taking care of the Dark Magic was for the best; however, she still couldn't shake the sinking feeling of guilt.

Before they had left, Hermione had been sure to casually slip one of her 'Become a Healer and Save Lives' pamphlets on to Draco's desk. Although Harry and Ron continually teased her about carrying pamphlets around, she always knew it would come in handy one day.

"...I'll go get you some tea, then." the waitress replied, turning back to the kitchen with his order, "Just grab a seat anywhere."

The man nodded and walked towards the table seated right next to Hermione's.

"Fancy seeing you here…" the man muttered upon taking notice of Hermione, "And just by the way, I know it was you…"

Hermione looked up in confusion before instantly recognizing the man. It was none other than Draco Malfoy, himself. "Hello...and what did I do?" she asked, although completely aware of what he was referring to.

"Oh, please, Granger, don't try and play dumb. I know we are both aware that neither Potter nor Weasley carry around _pamphlets_ with them…" he replied with bitterness dripping from his tone.

"Well, I'm sorry for trying to help," Hermione replied indignantly before turning back to her own work, "Now I'm extremely busy here so if you don't mind-"

"-I didn't say I was mad about the pamphlet, Granger," Draco replied, cutting her off, "I just don't understand what it was about…"

"You wanted a fresh start, to do something right so I just gave you a little shove in the right direction…" she replied, already going back to her work.

He nodded his head.

The pair sat in silence for the remainder of lunch, but neither left their seats as they both were caught up in work and thoughts.

"I went to a training session…" Draco said casually as he organized his things, preparing to leave.

"Good," Hermione responded with the slightest of nods. "Glad I could be of assistance."

"Yeah, well don't expect a thank you or anything," he replied, his cold demeanor instantly going up again.

"I don't expect anything from you," Hermione replied coolly, barely giving him a glance.

Without another word, Draco stood up with his things and headed towards the door. However before leaving he silently handed three galleons to the waitress, pointing to Hermione's table he simply muttered, "It's on me," and with that he left, the soft bell chiming as the door closed behind him.


	3. Immunity Round

Written by myself (Sociially-Diisoriiented) for the Immunity Round. Prompt: Write about Christmas at Hogwarts.  
><strong>Title: <strong>The First Christmas at Hogwarts  
><strong>Pairing: <strong>Draco / Harry  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T for kissing  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Harry spends every winter holiday at Hogwarts, alone and bored. This one is the different. This time, it actually feels like Christmas.

* * *

><p>For Harry, Christmastime is uneventful. Unlike the bulk of his fellow peers, Harry dreads the sparkling white holiday with a sinking feeling in his gut weeks before school lets out. He watches Hermione and Ron pack their trunks silently. He knows they're brimming with excitement, even though they try to look forlorn around him. He wishes he could go with Ron, bask in the warm atmosphere of the Burrow, have Molly pull him into a smothering hug and have Fred and George whisk him away at the first opportunity and share their latest creation that they'll later try on Percy, if he shows up, or else Bill, because he's a good sport with these things.<p>

Instead, Harry has to stay at Hogwarts, cold and empty, silent and deadly boring. He watches Ron and Hermione strike out for Hogsmeade to catch the train. Harry indulges in his moping and refuses to accompany them – he did, the first years, but had found the buoyant atmosphere unbearable. Seeing the other students bustle onto the train and hearing their loud laughter had brought his spirits down like an anchor had been tied to them. He'd spent that Christmas hearing the echoes of laughter bouncing off the walls.

So Harry doesn't go to the train station anymore. He waves goodbye to Hermione and Ron from the steps of the Hogwart entrance, and then he sees the next two weeks expand ahead of him, a horrifyingly endless line of days and hours and minutes which he does not know how to fill.

The Great Hall has never looked so empty. Due to the small number of students who stay at school for Christmas, the House tables have been merged into one. Harry's footsteps sound loud and obnoxious as he makes his way to the table. He recognizes a few faces, but only by passing them in the hallway. Then, his eyes fall on a blond head, bent over his dinner and sitting at the far end of the table, so much away from the others that Harry hadn't seen him at first.

Immediately, Harry is suspicious. Why is Draco Malfoy of all people staying the holidays over at Hogwarts? He must be up to something, and Harry knows he has to get to the bottom of this Christmas mystery. He makes a beeline for Draco, even though out of the corner he sees one of his fellow Gryffindors – Jaimes? Jordon? Harry can't recall – scoot over to make room for him. Draco looks up when Harry sits down, surprised at first, and then his eyes narrow and a muscle in his jaw twitches.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"What are you doing here?" Harry asks.

Draco stares at Harry, and it takes him a moment to realise how ridiculous his question sounds. He refuses to feel foolish however, and meets Draco's stare, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"I go to school here, Potter," Draco says slowly, enunciating each syllable as though Harry is hard of hearing or understanding, or possibly both. "I figured even someone like you would have noticed that by now, after six years."

"Someone like me?" Harry knows he's rising to the bait.

Draco shrugs, and lets his eyes roam over the table before answering. He spots the roasted chicken and fills his plate. "Oblivious, self-important, narcissistic, head up your arse. Take your pick."

Harry bristles inwardly, but forces himself to stay calm. He can't give Draco the satisfaction of knowing he's gotten to him. Besides, if he retorts things will escalate and then he'll ever know what Draco's doing here and won't be able to stop him.

"It's Christmas, Draco. What are you doing here instead of at home being pampered and waited upon hand and foot by your House Elves?"

Draco snorted. "Excuse me, pampered? Forgive me, I was under the impression you'd met my father."

Harry almost grins at that but stops himself. "Ah, a mommy's boy. I should have figured."

Draco sighs like he's exasperated with Harry. He probably is; that wouldn't be anything new. "Look, Potter, I know you think me incapable of doing anything decent, and don't get me wrong, I'm terribly flattered that you spare so much of your oh-so-valuable time tailing me and spying on me and all that, but let me save you the trouble this time. Not everyone is so anxious to run home and play pretend at being a happy family. I put up with it at summertime already. Why put myself through it twice, especially when I have a choice?"

Harry knows full-well that Draco could be lying to him, telling him what he wants to hear to get him off his back, but there's something bitter in his tone, something hateful that seeps into his words and makes the corners of his lip tilt downwards into something that Harry thinks is hard to fake.

Stupidly, he feels a pang of regret. This is _Draco_, he tries to tell himself. He's the last person in this school who deserves Harry's pity, and yet he feels his suspicions wane.

"I-" he starts, and then cuts himself off. What, he's sorry for having brought it up? He doubts Draco wants to hear that. He would never have thought there would be something to draw them together, but a part of him wants to reassure Draco that he's not alone. "I also-"

"Save it," Draco snaps. He looks angry, and Harry flinches when Draco tosses his fork down onto the table. It bounces once and then falls to the floor with a loud clatter. Harry can feel heads turn their way. Harry had already noticed in his peripheral vision the curious looks the other students had been stealing, but now they're not even trying to hide it and just staring. "The last thing I need is your pity or your condescension." Then he gets up and storms out of the Great Hall.

Harry stares at where Draco had been sitting for a good long while, stunned at how hurt he feels at Draco's outburst. Why should he be surprised? Draco is always causing scenes and yelling and insulting him. This feels different, however. Draco's voice had been a low hiss, and Harry hadn't missed the way his voice wavered near the middle.

He sighs. Alright, so maybe Draco isn't planning anything after all. Good, Harry can forget about him and just enjoy his Christmas holiday.

Except that's a lark, because Harry has never enjoyed a Christmas at Hogwarts. There had been the Yule Ball, but even that had been a catastrophic mess that had ended in disappointment, yelling and tears.

Harry spends most of time wandering around Hogwarts. He times himself to see how fast he can go from the Great Hall to the Gryffindor common room, and back again. He's getting really good at anticipating the changing of the stairs and finds a new passage from the Gryffindor common room to his Transfiguration class. He has to tone down his enthusiasm in his letters to Ron and Hermione, lest they regret leaving and missing out on all of the fun.

To make matters worse, Harry sees Draco everywhere. They have three days of interrupted snowfall and then they're all castle-bound. The thing with Hogwarts is that for all its vastness, there are only so many places one can go when there are no classes and going outside is not an option. For the most part, Harry thinks Draco stays confined to his common room, but every time Harry goes to the Great Hall or the library or to the study hall, Draco is there.

Finally, by mid-week, Harry has had enough. He sits across from Draco at the breakfast table. He feels Draco staring daggers at him but Harry pointedly ignores the Slytherin, going about filling his plate, pouring himself a cup of juice, and he sees Draco finally look away and proceed to eat his own breakfast. The silence between them is tense though; they're both waiting for the other to make the first move.

After breakfast, Draco goes to the library and Harry follows. He's been trying to catch up on his overdue reading, but every time he opens a textbook the sentences blur and he feels an overwhelming desire to fall asleep. He finds it easier to concentrate with Draco sitting near him, absorbed in his own work. He's scared that, if he falls asleep, Draco will draw something obscene on his face, or leave. Being around Draco makes him surprisingly productive.

They work until lunchtime and then head to the Great Hall without speaking a word. Harry starts to relax, but after lunch Draco takes the hall that leads down to the dungeons. The snow has stopped though, so Harry bundles up and heads out.

It's too cold to fly but the fresh air is calming. He walks to the lake and to his surprise, he sees Draco making his way toward him a half an hour later.

Harry doesn't know what possesses him to do it, but on their way back to the school, Harry scoops up a handful of snow. It's light, almost powdery. Harry absentmindedly compacts it, doubting it can even form a snowball, but after some patting and pressing he's formed one. He stares at it for a second, about to let it drop, before he impulsively flings it at Draco.

He hits him in the back of the head. Draco whirls around, eyes wide and alarmed before it dawns on him what happened.

"Oh, Potter, you have just made a big, big mistake."

He looks like he's going to hex him, but then he bends down, grabs some snow and flings it at Harry.

Harry only barely avoids getting hit in the face. Instead, part of the snowball hits his head and flecks of snow fall under his collar.

Harry hears himself laughing aloud as an impromptu snowball fight ensues. Draco is slower at making snowballs than Harry – he vaguely wonders how many snowball fights Draco has been in before – but he has better aim, and by the time they tire, they're wet, cold and flecked in white. Harry feels himself grinning foolishly, panting hard to catch his breath. Somehow, they've moved away from the lake and to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, for protection.

Draco is smirking, probably the closest thing to a smile that Harry has ever seen coming from him. He brings out his wand, and Harry thinks he's going to dry himself off, which is why he doesn't react. He only realises his mistake, the gravity of the situation, when Draco raises his wand, pointing it upwards. Harry frowns, and then it dawns on him just as a mountain of snow comes crashing down on his head.

Harry has no time to do anything but crouch and bring his arms up to cover himself. Most of the snow falls beside him, since he was just on the edge of the tree line, but the mini avalanche hits him hard anyway. He gets half buried, and he immediately feels the snow soaking through his winter robes.

He has half a mind to be furious with Draco – that much snow could have been seriously dangerous – until he hears a strange laugh coming from not too far away. Draco laughing.

Something shifts in Harry, a feeling of fondness at the joyful sound. Suddenly, Draco is there, half-digging him out, still chuckling, and way too pleased with himself.

"You git!" Harry yells. "That could have been seriously dangerous."

Draco rolls his eyes. "Relax, this powdery snow has never hurt anyone. Besides, you should have seen your face, you-" But Harry doesn't want to hear anymore. He reaches up, grabs Draco's wrist and pulls him face down into the pile of snow beside him.

It's his turn to laugh and for Draco to sputter indignantly. Harry lies back down in the snow and turns to face Draco. He's too wet to feel the snow soaking through his cloak, but he doesn't feel cold yet, body still pumping adrenaline through his veins and keeping him warm.

Draco is smiling, mouth parted slightly to catch his breath. His cheeks are pink from the cold, and his eyes look brighter than Harry's ever seen them. He has beautiful grey eyes, Harry thinks, and his blond hair looks silly sticking to his forehead, wet from the snow.

Then Draco looks over at him and they're making eye contact, only inches apart, and Harry has an overwhelming desire to kiss him. His eyes flicker down to Draco's lips and he feels a warm intensity pool at the bottom of his stomach, the same way it did whenever he saw Cho Chang in fourth year, like it did when he was about to kiss her last year.

Except this isn't Cho Chang, this is Draco Malfoy and they have a past, and not the best of pasts. And he's a boy, and he's not the nicest person Harry knows, and well, he's _Draco._ And still, the feeling consumes Harry totally, like it had been lying dormant inside of him since the first year and now Harry can't wait another minute.

All of these feelings rush through Harry in a handful of seconds, and in the moment that follows Harry feels himself leaning forward and sees Draco staring at him, shell-shocked, before Harry takes a leap of faith, closes his eyes and presses his lips to Draco's.

Harry's nerves are screaming as he applies only the smallest pressure to Draco's lips. His whole body is braced, ready to be pushed back, punched, maybe even hexed. He's ready for it.

What he's not expecting is more pressure, and a tentative hand grabbing his wrists, holding him in place. Harry can hardly believe it as the kiss deepens, as he hears a low gasp come from Draco as he parts his lips, opening to Harry.

They kiss like that, slowly, tentatively, until they're both relaxing, realising the other isn't about to come to his senses and shove them off. Then, they kiss for real, tongue and pressure, with hands cupping the face.

Finally, they break apart, panting for breath and shivering from the cold that their bodies are only now processing. Harry can't bring himself to look at Draco, scared that if he does Draco will realize who he's with and run off.

But Draco doesn't run off. He stands, brushes the snow off of his coat, and they make their way quietly back up to the castle. Harry knows they'll have to part ways once inside, go to their respective common rooms for a hot bath to warm up. He's dreading the moment, scared parting will break this tentative spell.

They slow to a stop after entering the school. They hesitate, not knowing what to say. Harry wants to kiss Draco again, but he doesn't dare, not here where anyone could just wander by and see them, not when he doesn't know if Draco would let him.

"If you want," Draco starts, then he stops.

Harry stares at him expectantly, silently urging him to go on. "Yes?" he asks, when Draco doesn't continue after a few minutes.

Draco clears his throat. His cheeks are still red, but the color seems to have spread, maybe not just from the cold anymore. "The Prefects have a big tub... If you want, we can, you know..."

Harry can't believe his ears. He's almost reluctant to answer in case he only imagined the proposition and makes a fool of himself.

Draco must feel like the fool because he says, "If you don't want to, it's fine."

"No," Harry says quickly, sharply. "No, that sounds great. Really nice."

Draco looks warily at Harry, like he doesn't fully believe him and Harry has something up sleeve.

Still, he leads Harry to the Prefect bathroom and he runs a bath. The room is charged with electricity. Harry realises how fast they're moving – from rivals to suddenly about to take a bath together. Still, they both strip to their underwear. Anything else seems too much. They slowly enter the bath. The hot water burns – his extremities were so cold the water is almost too hot, but they take their time getting in.

Eventually, Harry ducks his head under the water and then comes back up, leaning against the heated marble of the tub. There's nothing to compare to this in the Gryffindor dorms.

In the end, they kiss again, slowly, exploring each others' bodies with their hands from the waist up. When their skins turn to prunes and their lips are so swollen it starts to hurt to kiss, they get out of the bath and towel off.

That evening, they eat dinner in the Great Hall in silence. But it's a comfortable one now. Harry finds it soothing, in a way, the way he's discovering that he can just be with Draco and not have to speak, like just his presence is enough. Every now and then, Draco looks up from his plate and smiles softly at Harry, and each time Harry wants to lean over and kiss him.

After dinner, Harry and Draco sneak into the kitchen and stock up on hot chocolate and marshmallows, and then Harry takes him to the Room of Requirement. They spend the night on a couch in front of a warm fire, feet tangled up, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting in silence.

Eventually, Draco drifts off to sleep, and before Harry feels his own eyelids grow heavy he is hit with the realisation that even though he's spent countless winters at Hogwarts, this is the first time it's ever felt like Christmas.


	4. Immunity Round 2

Written by NeonDomino (Liza) and myself (Sociially-Diisoriiented) for the second Immunity Round.  
><strong>Prompt:<strong> Write a story based off of the song "Centuries" by Fall Out Boy  
><strong>Featured characters:<strong> Cygnus Black, Regulus Black, Sirius Black, Andromeda Black/Tonks, Narcissa Black/Malfoy, Nymphadora Tonks/Lupin, Draco Malfoy  
><strong>Pairings: <strong>Sirius/Remus, Andromeda/Ted, Narcissa/Lucius  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T for some kissing  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Some members of the Black family were more gold than others, but they were all determined to make history

* * *

><p>"So many legends are told," Cygnus Black told his family that evening. It was customary for him to make long-winded speeches at the dinner table. Usually, the topics revolved around current political matters, or a recent family scandal. That evening, however, was very different. "Some eventually turn to dust or to gold, but I want you girls to remember something very important, something to live your lives by: we are Blacks and we don't belong to legends. We make History. Do you understand girls?"<p>

His three daughters, Cygnus' pride and joy, looked up at him with wide admiring eyes. They were young still; Bellatrix, his eldest, was only twelve years old, but Cygnus could tell already that all three of them would be beautiful beyond words. Beautiful, powerful and ambitious, Cygnus could foresee it.

This speech was one that Cygnus' own father had imparted to him as well, at a similar dinner when Walburga and he were young and they had both striven to live their lives to honor their family's destiny. Because that's what it all came down to. It was a Black's duty to follow his destiny and impact the Wizarding world, to be remembered, to be immortalized and frozen in History passed down through the centuries. He could only hope that his daughters understood the gravity of his words and of their meaning.

"Right now you are cherry blossoms, on the verge of blooming but it is the most perilous time for you. Just one mistake is all it takes to be forgotten or remembered, forever. Do you understand?"

His Cherry Blossoms nodded. Bellatrix nodded the most enthusiastically. Cygnus had high hopes for her; he could see the passion already burning inside of her. She was head-strong and smart. She would go far.

"Of course, Father," she said, looking at her sisters with an air of disdain that came from being twelve and superior. "We'll honor the Black name. We're Purebloods, something this wizarding world tends to forget about nowadays, but we'll make them remember the strength and prestige of our bloodline." These words were ones Cygnus had spoken only a few nights ago during a particularly heated rant about how the Ministry of Magic was privileging Mudbloods more and more for higher posts. Cygnus was proud that Bellatrix remembered this, nearly word for word.

Andromeda, ten, pushed her food around in her plate. She seemed to be thinking over what he had just said. "Yes." There was a musing pitch to her tone, like she was lost in her thoughts. "No matter what it takes."

"That's right," Cygnus said, proud that his daughters were taking to their their duty so readily.

Only Narcissa remained quiet, though she nodded to acknowledge that she had been listening, that maybe she understood. She was only eight years old, the youngest of the three, but she was also the quietest. Andromeda and Bellatrix had not been so demure at her age. Narcissa preferred a quiet room, studying, letting her mother comb her hair. At her age, Bellatrix had been reigning chaos throughout the house, bullying the House Elves and giving her mother headaches. Still, there was something in her eyes that told Cygnus that when the time came, Narcissa's dormant strength would surge and make him proud.

"Good," Cygnus said. "Lesson adjourned."

That night was the first night Cygnus told his daughters of their sacred duty as a Black family member, but it certainly wasn't the last. He regularly reminded them of the importance of being remembered.

"You'll remember me through these words," he said, "but we'll go down in history as a family."

"_I can't stop 'til the whole world knows my name.  
><em>'_Cause I was only born inside my dreams."_

"What will they say?" Remus whispered.

"Who cares," Sirius replied. "I'm changing it all. Just because they've disowned me, doesn't mean no-one will know who I am. They'll see that I'm one of the few that actually lived his life. They will all remember me for it."

"You rebelled?" He whispered, smiling at Sirius.

"I lived," Sirius corrected him, lips meeting the werewolf's lips, pushing him back on the bed. His hands moved down Remus' body, fingers digging into the werewolf's thighs as he pushed them apart, moving between them.

"I don't want to be a part of their history; we'll make our own, Remus."

"How will we do that?" Remus asked.

"By winning this war. By being as different from them as possible. By not giving in to their darkness. By being free, just like we've always wanted - always dreamed of being."

He leaned down to meet Remus' lips again.

"Trust me, Remus. Everyone will know my name. I'll be in papers; I'll have everyone talking about me. I'll be famous."

"I don't doubt that," Remus replied.

"As for the dust and gold my family likes to preach about? The dust is back in Grimmauld Place, and the gold is here. The gold is us, Remus."

"_Mummified my teenage dreams.  
><em>_The kids are all wrong; the story's all off"_

Regulus stared at the Dias, seeing the locket sitting at the bottom. He tried to scoop the potion out but it wasn't working.

He knew he'd have to drink whatever was in there to get rid of it.

Regulus had had his doubts for a long time now. He hadn't realised what he was getting into when he first signed up.

All the promises of glory and power? He would have been the heir to the Black family name. He would have still had that glory and that power from being in charge of the most powerful Magical family there was.

He thought back to when it was just an idea to sign up, back in the Slytherin dorms. Where it was just whispers and everyone was rushing to prove themselves.

Regulus had wanted to prove himself - mostly because of the disappointment Sirius had caused. He had wanted to show his parents that he wasn't a disappointment too.

But they were all wrong. There was no better world waiting for them. It was the insane ramblings of a madman.

Sirius had been right to get out, but it was too late for Regulus.

No-one would know what he was doing there; maybe he wouldn't live long enough to make much of a difference.

All his dreams were dust now. His only redemption sat at the bottom of that Dias. That small bit of gold that was just out of reach. Not for much longer though; he knew what he had to do.

Maybe he wouldn't make history like his parents expected, but he would do the right thing this time. He reached for the Goblet and began to drink.

"_As long as there is a light my shadow's over you  
><em>'_cause I am the opposite of amnesia"_

Bellatrix remembered her father's first lecture of their sacred duty to their family's namesake as though it was yesterday. Since then, she's held her family's motto close to her heart. Bellatrix often thought about the words while lying in bed at Hogwarts: to be remembered, to be inscribed in the history books, the Ministry archives, to be the name on people's lips in two hundred years after one's death… Bellatrix couldn't imagine a greater legacy than that.

She felt privileged to be part of the grandest house of Purebloods, privy to this information: a mortal's key to immortality.

"We've been here forever," she often told any student, Slytherin or otherwise, who cared to listen. And those who didn't, well, Bellatrix didn't usually allow others that choice.

And yet, through all her boasting, she knew something was missing. It was more than wanting to be a part of the Black legacy; she wanted to make a name for _herself_, to be the first one people thought of when they heard the Black surname.

But how to accomplish this when she had so many distinguished family members?

The answer came as her years at Hogwarts drew to a close. It began as a whispered name among the Slytherin circle – Voldemort, people whispered; he's come to restore us to our rightful place at the top of the Wizarding hierarchy. And then, the name morphed into something more sinister. The Dark Lord, for those intimate with his plans; He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named for those who knew their days were numbered.

The thought thrilled Bellatrix and she knew she had found her calling. After Hogwarts, she would join with the Dark Lord and Bellatrix vowed to shine among his followers, to rise up the ranks to reign terror and justice at his side. She'd be gold and she'd leave the dusty legends to the scum tarnishing the Black name. She'd make history as a Black. As Bellatrix.

"_Some legends are told;  
><em>_Some turn to dust or to gold."_

"It's all wrong," she said, the moment Ted opened the door and looked at her in surprise. "So wrong. We are not better, we are worse because we hold ourselves above everyone else as though they are unworthy to even know us. Unworthy to breathe the same air. The story is all off, Ted, and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to work this out."

Ted wordlessly took her hand, leading her into his small flat. Her hand still in his, they sat down.

"I can't stop, Ted," she continued. "I'm here but I can't stop thinking about everything my father told me - he said that we make history no matter what, so where am I in that history? I'm the one they'll strike from the family tree, forgotten as though I was nothing. But I can't bring myself to be like my sisters. I can't give you up. I can't marry someone with pure blood."

"You'll never be forgotten," Ted replied. "You may not be remembered for the same things the rest of your family are known for, but you will make history too. You will make a different history."

"My father said that legends either turn to dust or to gold," she whispered. "I believe my running away makes me the dust."

"All I see is gold," Ted replied, bringing his lips to hers.

_(remember me_)

"We make our own history," Andromeda told her eleven year old daughter. She was old enough to know now, about to attend Hogwarts. She needed to understand.

"We are Blacks, we share their blood," Andromeda continued. "But the blood is like poison, it can spread darkness. We don't need that darkness to make history. We are the gold, the light. They are the dust and the dark."

(_for centuries_)

The woman's wand was held out in front of her, a Death Eater meeting her gaze as lights began to shoot back and forth.

Nymphadora Tonks couldn't deny that she didn't find this exciting. She would make history. She would be remembered no matter what happened. She would take out as many Death Eaters as she could. They were the dust that her mother had told her about.

Even if she died, she would be remembered for what she had tried to do. Her name would go down in history.

The locks of hair falling around her face changed to show everyone what she was. She was gold.

"_I could scream forever:  
><em>_We are the poisoned youth."_

On her wedding day, Narcissa admitted something to herself she had refused to acknowledge since she was eight years old and listening to her father tell them about their duty to uphold the Black name in history: she was not like her sisters. Narcissa knew she was not a leader, and as she recited her vows to this strict, handsome man before her, she made a very different set of vows to herself in her mind. No matter what, she would be the force behind Lucius Malfoy, she would support him and she would make sure he made history so that when the Malfoy name was evoked, they would know that he had married a Black. In her own way, Narcissa knew she would be making her father proud. And Narcissa so desperately wanted to make her father proud.

(_as long as there's a light_)

Narcissa had never meant for things to turn out this way. To see her son so pallid and red-eyed; she barely even recognized him when he came home for winter break. She wanted to cry and hug him and tell him that he didn't have to anymore, that it was over and she would protect him. But Narcissa couldn't move. She sat on the couch and listened obediently as her husband berated their son for his incompetence. He had not yet unlocked the cabinet. He had not yet killed Dumbledore. The Dark Lord would punish them all, he shouted. Narcissa knew him well enough to hear the tone of panic in his voice, and to see the light of fear in his eyes.

(_my shadow's over you_)

The war was a blur to Draco afterwards. He remembered little snippets, the worst parts he wished he could block out: the Room of Requirements, Crabbe, Fiendfyre … and then when Harry saved him and he saw all the bodies outside, from both sides. The death, the stink of human blood and fear in the air.

Draco had thought this would be easy, clean. That the Dark Lord would take over and cleanly expedite the Mudbloods from their sight. The last two years of his life had taught him differently. He had been a naïve little boy, blinded by words filled with grandiose promises: fame, history…what was it his mother always said, something her father had always repeated to her and her sisters as children, something about gold and dust.

Draco had been fixated on the gold, like his hair, he'd always thought, vainly. But now, taking in the battlefield before him he realized – there was no such thing as gold. It was all dust; dust and dirt and disgust.

The one singular memory that shone through for him, other than the snippets, of the war, was seeing his mother emerging from the Forbidden Forest. She saw him and ran; Draco had never seen his mother run before, but there she was running toward him, hugging him tight and crying and whispering in her ear, "There you are, my love. I thought I'd lost you," and showering his face with kisses. "You're my legacy," she kept repeating over and over and Draco thought maybe Dark Lord had tortured her and made her gone mad at the last minute, before dying. "You're all the history I need."

It wasn't until later, at the trial, that Draco pieced together what had happened in the forest. Narcissa had lied to Voldemort, sparing Harry's life in exchange for the reassurance that Draco had lived, and in the process sealing Voldemort's fate and that of the entire Wizarding world.

Draco felt a surge of pride then, as he and his family awaited the verdict that would seal their own fate for better or for Azkaban. But at that moment, he didn't care, because whether she realized it or not, his mother _was_ history. And she was pure gold in Draco's eyes.

_We'll go down in history,  
>Remember me for<br>Centuries._


	5. Team Change (Now: Team Slytherpuff)

The teams have been switched around for the Challenge. We are now Team Slytherpuff and the team members are now:

Sociially-Diisoriiented (myself)  
>NeonDomino<br>TheSummerNightingale  
>DarkIceAngelFlare<br>firefly81


	6. Reward Round 2

Welcome to Luna's Cooking Corner. Today we are bringing you the long awaited recipe that I've been promising you - Gulping Plimpies Soup.

Fishing for Gulping Plimpies is one of my most favourite things to do. I like to go down to the river and watch them swim in the water before fishing for them! My father and I would spend many hours together by our lake, waiting to catch them. Catching them isn't too hard; you just need to use water snails as bait. Make sure you are careful to not bring any Gurdyroot with you! Gulping Plimpies are repelled by them and not even water snails will bring them back out! But not everyone knows what to do with them after you catch them! Luckily, my father has a wonderful recipe for Gulping Plimpies soup. He says that everyone must have this recipe so here it is for all our wonderful readers.

6 freshly caught Gulping Plimpies.  
>1 cup of warm butterbeer (for soaking the Plimpies)<br>4 cups of water from the lake you caught the Gulping Plimpies in  
>½ a cup of mud, freshly mixed<br>2 large whole water snails  
>½ teaspoon Gillyweed<br>1 cup finely shredded Dragon's milk cheese  
>Ground radish salt for taste<p>

Soak the 6 Gulping Plimpies in the 1 cup of butterbeer for at least two hours. It's a very good idea to talk to the Plimpies while they soak as it makes them softer and more tender. You want them to be nice and soft!  
>Once the Plimpies are ready, pour the water into a pot and bring to a boil. While waiting for the water to boil, cut the Plimpies into small cubes.<br>After the water begins has boiled, add the cut Plimpies and the butterbeer they were soaking in. This gives it extra Plimpie goodness.  
>Add in the half a cup of mud, the two large water snails, and the Gillyweed. Let everything simmer on the heat for at least one hour, longer if possibly. You really want all the lovely flavours to mix.<br>After an hour, if the soup is a brown muddy color, it is ready for the Dragon's milk cheese. Now, this part can be dangerous so be careful! Turn the heat down to low and slowly add the cheese. If your heat is too high, your cheese will blow up.  
>Let the soup stay on the stove for another hour. During this time, I like to read fairy tales to the soup. I believe reading to your food really helps improve the flavour.<br>Throw in some ground radish salt to your taste. Enjoy your Gulping Plimpie soup!

And that, my lovely readers, is my father's famous Gulping Plimpies soup. I hope you enjoy it, it really does taste quite nice. If you ever have guests over, I'm certain this soup will become their favourite meal!

Next week in Luna's Cooking Corner, I will teach you how to make Gurdyroot Infusion, a drink made with Gurdyroots. The reddish-purple colour of this drink is one of my very favourite colours!


	7. Immunity Round 3

Written by Slytherpuff team for the third Immunity Round!  
><strong>Prompt:<strong> Write about Hedwig and her owl friends  
><strong>Pairings: <strong>Sirius/Remus, Luna/Draco, Hedwig/Eros  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T for references to bullying  
><strong>Summary:<strong> While the Golden Trio fight off evil forces invading the world, Hedwig and her owl friends do some good for their own.

* * *

><p>"I worry about Sirius," Harry said, walking into the owlery. "I… his feelings for Remus, I mean - it's obvious to everyone except Remus how he feels. It would be nice for him after all these years to have something to make him happy."<p>

"You make him happy - having you back in his life," Hermione replied. "As for him and Professor Lupin, are you even sure about that?"

"I wasn't before, but Sirius hasn't been very subtle in his messages. Going on about missing Moony and that sort of thing."

"What are you replying?" she asked.

"I honestly don't know what to reply," Harry admitted.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I think he needs some advice. Maybe just tell him that he should tell Professor Lupin how he feels and be honest. Whether he listens or not is his own business."

Harry nodded and pulled out the letter. From her perch, Hedwig watched carefully as Harry's quill moved across the parchment.

She swooped down over to greet Harry when he called her name and allowed the letter to be attached to her leg.

"Take this to Sirius," Harry requested, ruffling her feathers affectionately.

She hooted in response and headed to Grimmauld Place. But it wasn't Sirius that she would seek out, it was Remus.

After all, Harry would be happier if his Godfather was happier, and Hedwig had taken it into her own claws to ensure this came to be, even if it meant that this letter needed to be seen by Remus Lupin.

The result of the "misplaced" letter made her friends very happy and Hedwig basked in this knowledge. Reveling in this newfound feeling of philanthropy, Hedwig spread the idea to her owl friends. And so, Cupid was born; a group of winged nocturnal creatures bent on spreading kindness and love through Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - and the rest of Great Britain if their schedule allowed it.

* * *

><p>"I'm telling you, it's not right! It's unnatural!"<p>

"Oh, go bother someone else. Some of us actually want to eat in peace."

"Hoo, you think now is the time to eat? Do you even realise how close the world came to ending today?"

"Why, did you fall off your perch again?"

"Sod off. If those two breed together, it will be the beginning of a very slippery slope."

"Ooh, when did you acquire such a vocabulary?"

"I know words," huffed Pig. "And actually, it wouldn't be a slope, it would be a fall off a cliff! Have you seen that face and that personality? She looks like a dog! She will totally corrupt his genes and the world will get much stupider and nastier!"

"Do you even know what genes are?"

"Duh! It's those things. Humans like to wear them."

"I think the world has already gotten stupider by the virtue of _you _being in it."

"Both of you, stop it," Hedwig sniped, fluffing her feathers irritably.

Hermes and Pig fell silent, exchanging unblinking stares as they realised their female friend was in "that mood". This was her "Harry hasn't been to see me so I'm going to go meddle in someone's life to make me feel better" mood.

"Well, this has been fun, but Percy's probably looking for me so..." Hermes eyed the window, praying that Hedwig wouldn't notice but no such luck.

The snowy owl turned her frightening yellow eyes on him, freezing him in an uncomfortable half-flight position.

"Pig, find out more about those poor idiots who have been keeping you so busy. And if you have time, drop something on Cho Chang's face for me."

"Jealous much?" Hermes said softly to the wind.

"Hermes, come with me. We've got a job to do."

"Meddlesome woman..."

Hedwig made show to clip him on the head with her wing on the way out.

Their destination was close by - a perch specifically set up for owls on the sill of a grand south aisle tracery window.

"I adore this tower," Hermes puffed out his chest while a cool breeze rustled his feathers.

"We aren't here to enjoy the scenery, you almost-Ravenclaw," Hedwig huffed.

"Don't insult me. Ravens only wish they could be this -"

"Shut your beak," Hedwig hooted, activating her sneak mode.

Both owls fell silent at the approach of a familiar blonde. Luna Lovegood walked out of her room, barefoot only to stop at the bottom of the stairs and stare blankly into the empty common room. From their perch, the owls could see a mess in her room that went clearly against their friend's meticulous nature.

"Bullies," Hermes hooted quietly. "My master and his previous mate had to deal with it all the time."

"She deserves better," Hedwig replied, sharp eyes taking in the sadness that was shored up behind the Ravenclaw's eyes.

"Most do," Hermes clucked quietly, "but logic does not apply to mobs and this was certainly a job of one such group." He indicated with a claw at a note clutched in Luna's lax grip. "Classic behaviour: leave behind a message with the destruction as a threat."

"Barbarians," Hedwig huffed, pushing off the perch. The Ravenclaws had spelled an owl entry up near the top of the tower, through which Hedwig entered the common room and slowly glided to Luna.

Luna glanced up and smiled slightly as Hedwig landed on her shoulder and began to preen her hair. "Hello there, little angel. I always thought of owls as angels, you know. They flutter from the sky to the earth with wings of such beauty. Humans… I don't think we could carry any message from a god, but you certainly can."

Hedwig clucked sympathetically, allowing Luna to pet her as if she were, well, a pet. Silly humans.

"Angels are always drawn as humans, you see, and that's just wrong. Humans can't be that pure. They're just too…" she stared down at the note in her hand, "...corrupt."

Hedwig continued to comfort the girl who refused to cry, but in between bouts of comforting preening and noises the child could not understand, she read the letter and mused over its words.

'_Stay away from Draco. Even a snake is too good for you, Looney.'_

Hadn't Pig just been talking about Draco earlier?

* * *

><p>"I can't take it anymore!" Pig announced as he tried to land on the ledge Hermes and Hedwig had claimed in the owlery. He missed and had to circle around to do it successfully. "Pansy is just the most terrible female I've ever encountered. And she squeals more than a mynah!"<p>

"Raven calling the crow black?" Hermes snorted, more concerned with Hedwig's silence. She had been in deep thought since they had returned from the Ravenclaw Tower and Hermes could only hope that she had not hatched some hare-brained scheme that would end in failure.

Pig vehemently began to deny that he sounded anything like an uncouth starling, irritating the surrounding birds.

"Would you be quiet?" Hermes swiped at Pig's head. "We need to help Luna!"

"This is the job for the Golden Trio!" Pig crowed, immensely happy to indulge in his favourite pastime: trying to name their matchmaking business (which Hermes could not destroy no matter how hard he tried).

"That name's already taken," Hermes huffed.

"The Lords of the Wings. Just think how fitting it is: three treats for the Owlish Lords under the sky!"

"How Muggle of you."

"The things you learn when you stay over at Hermione's," Pig looked absolutely smug. "You should try it sometime, if you can get that stick out of your arse. Oh, I have another one: The Feathered Four!"

"There are three of us, you pigeon."

"Not if we include Eros."

"We are the Fantastic Feathers," Hedwig said seriously.

"You're still stealing from Muggles! And that's not the point! We're trying to help Luna!"

"I have an idea!" Pig said excitedly.

"How novel," hooted Hermes.

"We should hook her up with Draco!"

"You were shoved out of the nest when you were a hatchling, weren't you?"

"What? Draco isn't bad, to be honest, no matter what my master says. He could do so much better than that - that - peacock. No, ostrich. She's big enough to be one."

"Luna likes the boy," Hedwig hooted quietly, to Hermes' shock,

"And he likes her as well! More than Pansy! I'm sure of it!" Pig bounced on his perch slightly. "They just need a little… push."

Hermes looked at Pig like he had lost his mind.

"Surely you don't mean to actually… push them?"

"Of course he doesn't mean it literally. That oil you use to keep your feathers perfectly groomed is obviously interfering with your brain," Hedwig replied, awfully condescending.

Hermes scoffed at her. These owls didn't know anything about personal hygiene.

* * *

><p>"And you'll go straight to my daddy, right, Hedwig?" Luna stroked Hedwig's white feathers, and the owl rubbed up against the warm hand in reply.<p>

"She'll be very prompt about it too," said Hermes quickly. Perhaps he was watching the letter with too mischievous of a glint in his eye, because Hedwig shot him a glare that clearly said to shut up.

"Well, I have to get back to the common room," said Luna regretfully and she reached out to pet Pig. "Maybe next time I can stay longer!"

The owls hooted their goodbyes and Luna turned, humming. Hedwig was just about to give into Pig's and Hermes's eager beckons for her to untie the letter when Luna suddenly stopped walking and stared at Eros, who was busy preening his feathers.

"Shh!" Hedwig motioned for the other owls to quiet so they could hear Luna as she approached Draco's owl and whispered, "Aren't you a nice handsome owl?"

Pig hooted with delight at that. "Handsome, my beak!" he scoffed, but Luna's eyes were bright as she gave Eros a pat on the head.

"Did you hear that?" asked Eros as the door to the owlery opened and shut behind Luna. "I'm _handsome_. Did you hear that, Hedwig?"

"Oh, yes, I heard that," said Pig in a high-pitched voice. "And I completely agr-"

"If you are trying to resemble a dying rat, you're doing a fantastic job," snapped Hedwig. "Now get this letter off of me. We have work."

Unlike the previous ones, Luna's latest letter expressed anguish over her growing feelings for Draco (Eros puffed his chest out at that and reminded the group, specifically Hedwig, that all Malfoys were very desirable) and, this the owls found particularly interesting, that she thought he might return them.

"Well," said Hermes, refolding the letter with his claws. "If he really does like her, it's official, then."

"What?" asked Pig.

"They'll be kissing by the end of the month."

"Eurgh," said Pig and Eros at the same time. Eros shuddered. "Kissing. How very…._human._"

"Naturally," said Hedwig drily.

Eros sidled up to Hedwig as he helped Pig attach the letter to her leg again. "I prefer more - ah - _owl-like _dates, if you get my meaning."

"Oh, no," sniggered Pig. "We thought you preferred the ways of centaurs."

Eros rose to snap back, but Hedwig impatiently clacked her talons on the windowsill. "Shut up, all of you. We must focus on the matter at hand."

With no further explanation, she began to untie the letter that Pig had just finished tying onto her leg.

Hermes shared a befuddled look with the other owls. "Er, Hedwig? What's the plan?"

"Obviously, we're going to send the letter." She said this as she plucked the letter from the ribbon and waved it in front of Eros. "Put out your leg."

Eros, startled at first, broke into a grin and bowed. "Gladly, mademoiselle."

Hedwig unceremoniously batted his wing out of her eyes as she tied Luna's confession to Eros's leg. "Stand straighter," she commanded as her head touched Eros's soft wings.

"Ooh," sang Pig delightedly. "Hedwig and Eros sitting in a nest-"

He fell silent when he saw Hedwig's sharp glare, but he and Hermes snorted softly as Eros looked down fondly at the white feathers brushing against him and tying Luna's letter.

"Send it to your master," said Hedwig when she was done, and Eros obliged heartily. As he flew from the owlery towards the courtyard and out of sight, Hermes asked, "So what's next to do?"

Hedwig flew to her perch and relaxed against the stone. She didn't speak for a while, but when she did, her answer was simple. "We wait."

* * *

><p>It didn't take long.<p>

Five hours later, as Hermes was making his usual evening turn around the castle, he spotted a pair of blond heads making their way out from the castle. Swooping in closer, he recognized Luna's distinctive laugh, which could only mean one thing: the boy simply had to be Draco Malfoy.

Hooting in joy, Hermes flew as fast as he could to the owlery, where he promptly screamed, "Hedwig! Pig! Eros! You have to see this!"

The three owls, disgruntled from being woken up from their nap, flew after Hermes until they saw the blonds sitting by the Black Lake.

"Oh my," said Hedwig.

"Oh _yes_!" said Pig.

"That's my _master_," said Eros in awe. "With _Luna_."

"Obviously," said Hermes, but his voice lacked any sharp edge to it. "Isn't it excellent?"

"We are too good," declared Pig as he flew down to a tree and settled on its branches. "We should be given medals of honor for what services we have done."

"Or maybe a badge, like Percy's," sighed Hermes.

"I'd be fine with a nice nest to sit on," said Hedwig.

"Well," said Eros slowly, turning to her with his big brown eyes. "I know a particularly nice nest with a den of rats nearby, if you're interested."

To everyone's surprise, Hedwig turned her whole head to Eros and said, "Alright. Show me."

Pig snickered as Eros puffed out his chest and said, "Forward!"

The two majestic owls flew off together, and, as they moved further and further into the distance, Hermes and Pig could see that their feathers were brushing against each other and hear Hedwig's hoots becoming less sharp and more fond.

Hermes turned to Pig, who shook his head and said, "How very _strange_. Just this morning, she was threatening to bite his head off."

"If there's one thing you have to know," Hermes began, philosophically, "it's that females are excellent mood-shifters. I learned that from my master's mother."

The two watched their owl friends disappear into the distance for a while, then turned when they heard loud sounds of laughter coming from below. Apparently Draco and Luna were engaging in a snowball fight.

"We really are excellent, aren't we?" Hermes clicked his talons appreciatively.

"Yeah. If only the humans knew what we did for them."

"As far as they know, we're only capable of sending mail."

The owls snorted at the idea, then took off in search of a treat to have for dinner, leaving Draco and Luna to have their intimacy.

"Heading back home soon? Isn't Percy the Prat going to be missing you?"

Hermes said nothing, just glared at Pig. "You have your claws full merely worrying about your own master, Pigwidgeon"

Pig hooted nervously and the two fell silent as they hurried to the best feeding spot at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"So," Pig mused, "what about Cupid?


	8. Reward Round 3

Dumbledore's Army was waiting for the Order as they arrived at the castle. As Bill rushed from the Floo, he managed to get a glimpse of his younger brother and sister and was relieved that they were all right so far.

He hadn't wanted to believe the message he had received: Death Eaters at Hogwarts. But he knew that they wouldn't lie about something like that, not in these dark times.

Wand ready, he rushed into battle. He couldn't believe the amount of Death Eaters that had infiltrated Hogwarts. They were everywhere, the halls of the castle illuminated with a multitude of colours.

Bill took a look around, there seemed to be no casualties as of yet, indicating that they had only just arrived themselves and he tried to work out where they had come from, hoping to stop any more from getting into the castle, while taking some out on the way.

That plan was put on hold when he came face to face with Fenrir Greyback. The werewolf's shirt was already splattered with blood and while he was scared of few things, the look on Greyback's face terrified him.

For a second, he wondered where Remus was, and if Remus was aware that the beast that had caused his condition was in the castle. But he guessed that Remus would be more likely to seek out Harry or stick closer to the students to defend them. That meant that it was his job to take on Greyback before Greyback could hurt anyone else.

His time for thinking was cut short as Greyback lunged at him. Bill threw a stunner at him, but the man shook it off as though it was nothing more than a fly hitting him. He was only able to get off two more spells, neither of which had any effect, before Greyback reached him, smashing him into the wall with more force than Bill thought possible. Before he knew what was happening, Greyback was on top of him. The weight of Greyback pushed him to the floor and he wondered if this was it for him. Pain exploded in his head as Greyback punched him in the side of his face.

Bill could hear his fiancée screaming spells, stunning ones, anything to stop Greyback, but nothing was having any effect. Part of him was glad, he didn't want Greyback to set his sights on Fleur instead. He tried defending himself, but Greyback was much stronger. Greyback then did something that would change his life forever. He raked his fingernails down the left side of his face, drawing blood.

Bill was lost to the sounds around him and missed the growl to his side. Only when Greyback's weight had been removed from his body did he look around to see two feral men snarling at each other. His mouth dropped. Not once had he seen Remus Lupin like that.

He struggled to move as someone stepped over him and rushed away, taking a moment to work out how badly he was hurt before pulling himself from the ground.  
>Another look towards the two werewolves told him that Remus was up to the challenge of dealing with Fenrir, and Bill went to find another Death Eater to face. There would be time to think about his injuries later.<p> 


End file.
